One More Time
by chickadee3711
Summary: When the chance comes again for you to get things right, to fix everything you've done, do you take it? Do you change anything? Or do you continue on as you always have? Could you even make a difference if you tried? DallyxJohnny. Slight AU.
1. Chapter 1

Dallas Winston didn't have to try and be strong, he just was. For the longest time it was thought that nothing could break him. In New York, he had watched people get jumped or murdered, and hadn't even bat an eyelash. Sometimes he was the one doing the killing. Still, he remained unaffected as the blood soaked into his clothing. Dallas had hardened beyond the point of caring. He didn't give a damn about anything but self preservation until he met Johnny Cade.

He wasn't sure why, but he was drawn to the dark-haired boy who shied away from everyone. There was something that he saw in Johnny that was absent in himself. Was it innocence? No, the look in this boy's eyes suggested he had been through things no child should endure. Hope, maybe? That couldn't be it; he had heard Johnny's mutterings about wanting to kill himself. Somebody that still had any scrap of hope left wouldn't think about those kinds of things. Whatever it was, it had Dallas hanging off of every shy word that passed the boy's lips. In no way would he ever admit that, though.

For the entire gang it was easy to see that Johnny absolutely adored the juvenile delinquent from NYC. His big brown eyes lit up when Dallas walked in the room without fail. If Dallas was around, the boys could get more than five words out of him. It was obvious that Johnny respected him, and wanted to be respected by him as well. He had told Ponyboy once or twice that he just wanted Dallas to be proud of him. The blonde in question had overheard this and felt his heart seize. Dally was incredibly proud of Johnny; he never cried out when getting beaten and always pulled through during a rumble. No amount of fear could hold him back, even though it constantly ate away at his nerves. He had been tempted to run in and hug the boy. But that would ruin his entire image, so he restrained himself with much difficulty.

This bond that they had, this kinship, was more than anyone could possibly imagine. It was something each of them clung to desperately with everything in them. So when they were forcibly torn apart, one of them was bound to snap. Surprisingly enough it was Dallas.

* * *

All he knew was that Johnny was dead. His best friend, his brother, and the most important person in the world to him had just died in front of him. The last words Johnny spoke were to Ponyboy too, not him. Bitterness and sorrow coiled in his stomach before wrapping its dark tendrils around his already blackened heart. Slowly, his body became numb, just as Johnny's had only moments before. Dally could barely feel it when his knuckles collided with the dry wall in the hospital room. Nor could he feel how much his legs burned as he tried to escape the cops after robbing a grocery store. He was running on a deadly combination of angst and adrenaline.

Dallas looked over his shoulder and skid to a halt under the flickering light of the nearest lamp post. Cold metal burned against his flesh as he twisted and he remembered the unloaded gun in his waistband. He whipped it out with only one thing on his mind: a quick end. The police shouted something that was quickly drowned out by the sound of rounds being fired in quick succession. Behind him he could hear the gang talking, gasping, and he'd be damned if he didn't hear one of them whimper. It didn't matter to him though because the bullets piercing his body would let him see Johnny again. His body crumpled to the ground and he grinned. This was perfect. He was actually quite proud for planning this whole scene out and watching it go just as he wanted. Now all he could do was wait, hope, and pray that he'd open his eyes only to be greeted with Johnny's smiling face again.

Imagine his disappoint when he woke up to the sound of a heart monitor beeping and a quiet conversation between whoever the hell was situated at his bedside. His icy blue eyes narrowed into a glare and he turned to look at the two figures. Ponyboy was scolding Two-Bit for messing with Dallas's IV line.

A low growl escaped his throat. "The fuck do you think you're doing Two-Bit Mathews? Keep your grubby little paws off of that stuff, it's important."

The boy who had only hours before tried to commit suicide by cop was reprimanding his friend for playing with the thing keeping him alive. Let it never be said that Dallas Winston didn't appreciate irony.

"Y-You're awake!" Ponyboy squeaked, blushing at the pitch of his own voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. "How are you feeling, Dally?"

"I feel like I just got shot six times."

"Oh. Well, they did hit some vital organs, but the doctor fixed you right up. You have to go to court once you're outta here though…"

Dallas waved his hand dismissively. "No big deal, I've been to court so many times the judge knows me by name."

"Yeah," Ponyboy said with a weak smile. His grey (even though they were green he insisted quite vehemently that they were grey) eyes landed back on Two-Bit, who was now fascinated by a pair of latex gloves the nurses left sitting by Dallas's bed. He pulled them on and tugged on a facial mask before striking a very dramatic pose.

"You think I could be a good doctor?" he asked, both of them knowing he was grinning like the Cheshire cat behind that mask.

"I wouldn't let you operate on me even if my life depended on it," Dallas deadpanned. Two-Bit laughed, stripping himself of the gloves.

"I wouldn't either, that's for sure."

The conversation dwindled into a comfortable silence that was only interrupted by the constant whirring of machines. Dallas looked around and sighed. It was like a giant white elephant had taken up residence in the room with them. _I guess I'm the one who has to bring it up_, he thought. Neither of his friends wanted to mention what had happened earlier that night and he didn't blame him. He was less than enthusiastic about how necessary it was for them to talk this out. Fuck feelings.

"Look guys, about Johnny-"

He was cut off by the slapping of sneakers on disinfected tiles and harsh panting as Sodapop bound into the room, cheeks flushed. His mouth opened and closed like he was a fish out of water and he kept sputtering words incoherently.

Ponyboy got up quickly and held his shoulders. "Soda, what is it?"

"It's…it's Johnny, he's stable! Well, as stable as they can get him but he's alive!"

Everyone lapsed back into silence, but each of them were having distinctly different reactions. Ponyboy looked like he was about to cry, and Two-Bit had a goofy smile plastered on his face. Sodapop was still huffing and puffing from running here from wherever he had been before. But Dallas was scowling just as darkly as ever, if not more menacing.

"What are you talking about? Johnny's dead. I saw him go with my own two eyes, Soda. Now don't you walk in here and think it's alright to mess with me for shits and giggles." Anyone else would have retracted their previous statements and agreed with him just because of how murderous his tone was. But not Soda. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against the wall.

"I ain't messing with you, Dal. I'm being serious. Yeah, Johnny's heart stopped, but it was just one of those near death experience things like on TV. He's alive. You ran out, then Two-Bit and Pony left, and they were going to pull the plug on him but then he started groaning about his back hurting. The poor nurse thought he was a zombie. But he's alive. I swear on our Lord's good name that he's alive and breathing."

This would be the second time ever that any of the gang had seen the infamous Dallas Winston cry. Tears clouded his vision and he wiped his eyes furiously with the back of his hand. Still, the salty droplets cascaded down his cheeks. A choked sound came from the back of his throat, like he was trying to pass a sob off as something else.

"You're lying, that can't happen," Dallas said, not wanting get his hopes up. He hung his head so they wouldn't see the torrent of tears that refused to stop flowing.

A new voice added to the mix, saying, "He's not lying, Dally. Johnny's okay."

He looked up to see Darry blocking the doorway, all muscle and a stoic demeanor. The look on his face told Dallas he wasn't kidding. This he could believe; Darry wouldn't joke about something as serious as this. He was more than aware of how much Dally cared about Johnny. In Darry's mind, Dallas losing Johnny would be like him losing Sodapop or Ponyboy.

Dallas steeled his nerves and set his jaw. "I wanna see him."

Darry's expression softened slightly as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You're stuck in bed for at least three weeks. If you try to exert yourself you'll start bleeding like a stuck pig. Johnnycakes agreed to do physical therapy though, so maybe one day he'll be able to come and see you. Nothing is for sure right now."

All Dallas could do was nod and dry his eyes, not trusting himself to speak anymore. If he did he was sure he'd burst into tears again. This time he probably wouldn't be able to stop himself, too. Not that it'd mean much to him anyways. Johnny was alive, and that was all that really mattered.

* * *

Well, here's my first post ^^ I plan on making this multi-chapter, but if you want any more I'm gonna need some reviews. I know, how mean of me. Anyways, I hope everybody is in character. I tried really hard to make them seem realistic. Lemme know how I did! :3


	2. Chapter 2

It had been fifteen days, seven hours, and eleven minutes since he had been admitted to the hospital after letting a team of cops fill him full of led. The holes in his body didn't hurt very much anymore but if he moved too much he would start to cough up blood. He remembered when Two-Bit poked his cheek, laughing about how he had some scruff going since he couldn't shave, and he tried to throttle the poor guy. Lucky for him, though, Dallas had a bit of a fit and spat out some blood onto the pale blue blanket draped across his legs, his disgust now focused on the dark glob. Ponyboy paled when he saw it and made a quick exit.

To him seemed like Pony was spending more time at the hospital than he did at home. Darry didn't mind too much either as long as Dallas made sure to send him home at a decent time so he could finish up his homework. He always told him to leave a little later than he should've, but he liked Ponyboy's company. If he wasn't with Johnny and helping him with the physical therapy, he'd be trying to convince Dallas not to gut his doctor with a scalpel. On a particularly bad day, he had pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and shoved it in Dallas's face before he could lurch forward and try to punch Steve in the mouth. It was a note that Johnny had written and stuck in a copy of _Gone with the Wind. _The note itself was addressed to Ponyboy, but the last few lines were about him. Dallas scratched his chin absentmindedly, staring at the parchment sitting on his bedside table. In his shaky handwriting, Johnny had asked that Ponyboy tell him that there was still good in the world. He thought Dally didn't know. _There is good in the world, and that's you Johnny Cade_, he thought fondly.

Sometimes he even surprised himself with how much he cared about the younger boy. The majority of his time in the hospital was spent thinking about Johnny and re-reading the last two lines of his letter. Lord Almighty how he wanted to go see him. If he could have his way he'd have ripped out every IV and ran to the kid's room as fast as he could. Dallas couldn't help but think that if he kept lying around like this he'd lose him again. There wasn't a chance in Hell he'd let that happen.

Dallas closed his eyes and bunched up the sheets in his fists. Quiet footsteps sounded just beyond the doorway, getting closer by the second. It was probably one of the guys coming to try and cheer him up. He frowned.

"I ain't in the mood to chat-"

"Dallas."

His eyes snapped open once again and there he was.

Johnny was skinnier than the last time Dally saw him, which said a lot seeing as he was the tiniest of their group to start with. His shoulders were pushed up to accommodate the heavy crutches placed beneath them. Thick black bangs were already growing back to a length where they could hide those big expressive eyes of his, but it didn't matter; Dallas would always push them back anyways.

"My God, Johnny, come here and let me see you," Dallas said, voice nothing more than a forced whisper. The boy in question smiled like a kid in a candy store and tried to hobble into the room, bare feet even more uncoordinated due to his excitement. That, coupled with the fact he couldn't figure out how to maneuver his crutches correctly, led to him to just dropping the damn things. He clutched a chair tightly and took a few clumsy steps towards the bed. Johnny collapsed over the railing, arms tossed around Dally's neck.

Dallas held on tight, fingers threading through inky black strands of hair. He looked down at the boy sprawled across his chest when he started to hear low whines and sniffles. He had to try hard not to smile.

"I missed you, Dal," Johnny said quietly, face pressed against the junction of Dallas's neck and shoulder.

"I missed you too, Johhnycake."

"I've been working real hard to walk on my own so I could come see you. They said I couldn't do it Dal but here I am," he continued, smiling weakly and cuddling closer. If he inhaled real deep he could smell Dally's cologne; the scent was faint but ever present. Even when it mixed with the harsh tang of antiseptics it still comforted him. "I'm trying really hard so you gotta get better too, okay? Promise?"

Dally smiled at the childlike enthusiasm his friend was displaying. "I promise. I'll be out of here in no time. And I'm glad you're walking, but don't push yourself too hard, you hear me? I don't need you keeling over on the way to my room."

"I'll be good, Dally, I swear. Just…don't leave me," his voice grew softer and weaker with every word. He'd done it before, but he didn't want to start bawling in front of his idol. Johnny clung to him with every ounce of strength left in that frail body. Dallas, unsure of what to do with his hands, ran the up and down Johnny's sides soothingly. He knew the boy was on the brink of tears, and a crying Johnny was the last thing he wanted to see right now. Very faintly he heard Johnny mumble something against his skin.

"What was that, kiddo?

Johnny looked up, eyes stormy from the inner turmoil of telling Dally or not telling him. By the time he made a decision it was too late.

A nurse walked into the room, pushing a little trolley covered in syringes and carious medical supplies. Johnny let out a little yelp and stumbled back to grab his crutches and hightail it out of there. They made him nervous; he couldn't help it. He stuttered out an apology and click-clacked his way out the door.

The nurse let out a little giggle even though Dallas was glaring daggers at the girl. "He's a real cutie. Never says much, but when he does he just begs to walk down here. He hadn't been on crutches for two days before he was trying to come see you. You must mean a whole lot to him."

His evil look dropped, replaced by something akin to deep reflection tinged with sorrow. "Yeah. I guess I do."

* * *

Johnny flopped back down onto his bed, face pressed into the soft pillow. His heart was fluttering and tripping over itself in a way that he could only describe as oddly pleasant. Seeing Dallas had that kind of effect on him.

He sighed into the white fabric as he went over what just happened between them. Back there, lying across his best friend's lap, he had almost said something incredibly stupid. The words lingered in his mind whenever he thought about the JD from New York and by now he was sure that they were true. There was a voice that told him to keep this little tidbit to himself though, in case Dallas didn't feel the same way. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he messed up his friendship with Dally. So he kept his feelings to himself.

Johnny refrained from telling Dallas that he loved him.

* * *

**Woo! It's shorter than the first chapter, and kind of rushed, but inspiration hit me so I just went with it. Follow, favorite, review, do whatever you want to let me know you wanna see more of this story! :3**

**~Chickadee**

**To those who reviewed:**

**mnbygreaser: haha I cried so hard when they died in the book! I had to let them live on through fanfiction.**

**Sweetie Amoeba: well I hope this is a satisyfing second chapter then! X3 **


	3. Chapter 3

**marlsqq- I'm talking straight up homo-romance. I ship these two so hard, so if I apologize if that's not what you were looking for in this story. Thank you for the compliment though ^.^**

* * *

Doctors had been saying this his burns were healing up nicely, and with the way he was progressing with physical therapy, he was defying all odds. Some were calling his a miracle. Johnny didn't see it that way. This was all him. He wanted to desperately to be able to walk on his own, to be with Dally and his friends like he used to. Every day brought a new determination to get better. After all, he had made a promise to Dallas that he would. He'd never dream of breaking a promise with Dally.

His feet hit the cold tile floor and made him shiver. There were very few lights on seeing as it was about eleven at night; he couldn't be completely sure since his room didn't have any sort of clock in it. That had really irritated Darry when he came by to see him. _How in the Sam Hill am I supposed to know what time it is?_ he had growled. It was pretty funny to see him so riled up over something so little. Ponyboy had just shook his head and handed Johnny a new copy of Gone with the Wind.

The paperback book slid off of the wheeled table situated next to his bed as he fumbled for something to hold on to. His knuckles turned white from how hard he was gripping the railing on his bed. But the awkwardness of his walking just made him want to heal up even more. That was how he got the idea of practicing his walking at night when the nurses couldn't scold him for over-exerting himself. Hell, he knew his limits better than they did. His attempts started out small with him just walking to the door and back. For a while he still had to do it with crutches but eventually he tossed them to the side and forced himself to make it without them. Instead he had fallen flat on his face. It took every bit of strength he had to crawl back into bed, and he almost wept from how much his burns hurt. However, that did not deter him from trying again the night after that.

He thought he was doing pretty good, and wanted to see just how far he could go. Johnny may have been timid but that never stopped him from pushing personal boundaries. Poking his head out of the room, he signaled for a nurse. A younger woman, one who couldn't have been much older than him, strolled over to him. He wondered how these ladies handled late night shifts like this.

"What do you need, sweetie?"

"I was just wondering if I could go see my friend, his room is real close," he pleaded, using his innocent looks to his advantage. Johnny knew very well that the nurses in this ward had a soft spot for him.

The nurse smiled sadly. "Darling he's probably asleep by now. Why don't you go on back to bed?"

"Please, I just need five minutes to talk to him. He doesn't get many visitors and he's never really been one to go to sleep early. Please, I promise I'll come straight back to my room afterwards."

She was contemplating it, and by the look on her face, Johnny had pretty much won her over with those puppy dog eyes of his. "I guess so…but go right to bed afterwards, you hear?"

"Yes ma'am, thank you," he said with a smile. As the woman turned and walked off he wondered if she was new here. He hadn't really seen her before, and no nurse in their right mind would let a patient like him walk around on his own. Either way he wasn't complaining.

His fingers grabbed at the wall which supported the majority of his weight as he made his way towards Dallas's room. It was a slow and painful process, but after tripping on his own feet a few times he made it to his destination.

The lights inside the room were off, suggesting that his friend was sleeping. Johnny guessed that it made sense since there wasn't much else for him to do when bed ridden. Still, he forged on into the dark room, cursing quietly when he knocked painfully against a chair that was so conveniently placed _in front_ of the entryway. After that minor mishap, he tottered over the Dallas's bedside.

He looked almost peaceful when he was sleeping since you couldn't see the icy look in his brilliant blue eyes. Johnny thought about if he looked the same when he slept, but then decided he didn't. For some reason he just thought he couldn't look peaceful at all with his frazzled nerves.

Johnny hesitantly placed a hand on Dally's shoulder and shook him. "Dal? You awake?"

It was a stupid question; he had been watching the boy sleep seconds earlier. Dallas groaned and shrugged Johnny's hand off. "What in God's name are you doin', Johnnycake? It's late and I'm tired. Go to bed."

The fragile boy shrunk back at this. Well, if Dally didn't want him around then he'd leave. There must have been a look of complete dejection on his face because Dallas softened his tone.

"Alright, Johnny, you can stay for a little while. Not past midnight though or that doctor is gonna have our heads."

"Okay," Johnny said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He still looked so sad that it crippled Dallas's stone heart. _What's this kid doing to me?_ He thought. Even he had noticed a slight change in his behavior when Johnny came around. He got less abrasive and even had moments where he was just nice. Dallas blamed this on the near death experience, nothing more.

Very lightly he took hold of Johnny's wrist and pulled him down into a hug. "How are you holding up?"

Johnny smiled up at him through the darkness. The proximity was started to have an effect on him, but he couldn't lead on that something was bothering him. He had lain curled up next to Dallas before; he was maybe ten years old and the whole gang was staying over at the Curtis's house for the night. Naturally, Johnny clung to Dallas since it made him feel safe. Back then he didn't know what that tingling feeling in his chest was and dismissed it for nervousness about having to go home the next day. Now that he was older he understood everything though, and it made him somewhat uncomfortable. How was he supposed to act? "I walked here all on my own. Aren't you proud of me, Dal?"

The sheer look of hope in the younger boy's eyes was his heart swell, with pride, yes, but also with something else that he didn't quite care to identify. "Yeah," Dallas replied, voice coming out softer than he intended. "I'm proud of you, Johnnycakes."

Dallas felt his body heat up when Johnny cuddled closer to him. Their combined warmth was starting to make his mind fuzzy and thoughts muddled. It didn't exactly bother him though; the feeling of the smaller body next to his was comforting. Johnny obviously felt the same way since his breathing had grown steady yet shallow. They lay together in the dark, Johnny's arms wrapped around Dallas's waist, and Dallas's good arm curled around Johnny's shoulders. He knew the boy was about to fall asleep, and knew the doctors would give him hell for this in the morning, but he didn't care. Dallas let little old Johnny fall asleep right there with the boy's head on his chest, listening to the calming rhythm of his heart.

* * *

**This. Oh god. This is what happens when I listen to Dustin O'Halloran while I write. I'M HAVING SO MANY FEELS RIGHT NOW. And please excuse the total unlikeliness of this situation, I just wanted to write a snuggly scene like this. Please write me more reviews, my darlings, they make me feel loved. :3**

**~Chickadee**


	4. Chapter 4

After literally the best night of sleep he had ever gotten, after sharing an amazing moment with the person who meant the most to him, Johnny was forced to stay in his room and could only leave when accompanied by a nurse. The doctors were furious about him walking all the way there on his own, and were absolutely outraged that he had stayed the night in another patient's room. Little Johnny took his punishment quietly while Dallas decided to make every nurse and doctor that entered his room hate that they chose this for a profession. He refused every bit of food they pushed at him and broke every needle they stuck in his arms. Dally had even hauled his sorry ass out of bed just to show them all that he meant business. It was either let him see Johnny, or suffer for as long as his hospital stay lasted. They all chose the first option even though Dallas was going to be released the next day. Nobody wanted to mess with a pissed off Dallas Winston, not even the orderlies.

Johnny took a few more shaky steps forward before falling eagerly into Dallas's waiting arms. He smiled up at his hero and straightened himself again though he kept a good grip on Dally's shoulders. "I'm doing good, aren't I?"

"You'll be running like the wind in no time, Johnnycakes," Dallas said with a laugh. He steadied the younger boy and took a seat on the edge of his bed. "Keep up the practice while I'm gone okay? If you do good enough then they'll let you out of here."

Eyes lighting up at the thought of escaping this hospital, Johnny nodded enthusiastically. "I'll practice every day."

"Stay tuff, kid. I'll be waiting for you on the outside," Dallas said with a wink and light punch to Johnny's shoulder. The joke didn't go unnoticed and made the dark haired boy smile. It was the kind of smile that made Dallas forgot that he was nothing more than a delinquent with a bad history. Whenever he saw that smile, he felt like he was actually special.

That warm feeling lingered with him even as he sauntered up the pathway to the Curtis's front door. Inside, Steve and Soda were wrestling on the rug while Darry tried to read a newspaper on the couch. Two Bit was in the kitchen doing god knows what, and Pony was entertained enough by the two wrestling in front of him.

"Looks like you guys didn't miss me at all," he said with a lopsided grin. Ponyboy's eyes widened at the sudden interruption, making Dallas chuckle. "Don't be so surprised, kid. Nobody can keep Dallas Winston down."

Steve whooped happily and hopped up, dragging Soda up with him. "The gang's almost back together! Soon as Johnny gets out of the hospital everything will be normal again!"

Darry smiled and clapped Dallas on the shoulder. "Welcome back."

The smile was returned, much to everyone's surprise. There was nothing that could ruin Dallas's good mood after that night with Johnny. Other than Two Bit and his big mouth, of course.

"Silvia came around looking for you again," Two Bit said from the kitchen, a chunk of cake in his mouth. Dallas scowled and fell back into the recliner.

"Yeah? Well tell that two-timing tramp I don't want to see her," Dallas growled. It wasn't often that he spoke so poorly about the girls he dated but this was an exception. He had given the girl more than enough chances to be faithful but every time she would go running around with some other guy. It wasn't as if he slept with other girls when they were actually together. Dally fiddled with the ring on his finger at the memories.

"Don't worry," Two Bit continued, "we made sure that hussy won't be coming around again."

The wolfish grin his friend wore made Dallas laugh. Leave it to Two Bit to make an ass out of himself and still be proud. Not that it mattered if someone was a total dick towards a girl like Silvia.

"Cherry asked how you were doing, too," Ponyboy said from the side. His voice wasn't very loud, and if he hadn't been paying attention, Dallas would've missed it. He racked his brain to see if he ever dated a girl name Cherry but came up with nothing.

"Who?"

"The red-head from the drive-in," Ponyboy told him. "I can't believe you forgot."

He honestly couldn't believe he had either. That was the one night a girl actually told him no. It was also the night Johnny stood up to him. Later that same night a boy was stabbed in front of a park fountain by a timid little greaser. "Got it. Good to know."

"She was too scared to come see you in the hospital, really wanted to talk to you though," the smaller boy said.

"Is that so? Well I'll be sure to call her up whenever I want to have a coke dumped on me," Dallas replied, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Ponyboy looked distressed but didn't speak any further. He had no intention of ever talking to that girl again. Usually, if they didn't want him the first time around, they definitely didn't want him the second time around.

The conversation shifted over to a lighter topic while Steve and Soda went back to testing their masculinity by arm wrestling. It felt good to be surrounded by people that accepted him no matter how twisted he was. Dallas knew that it wouldn't be complete without Johnny seated by his feet, but beggars can't be choosers. He would take what he could get while he could.

* * *

His lungs burned in the most pleasurable way as he inhaled around the cigarette then puffed out a perfect ring of smoke. Dallas had just bought himself a pack and couldn't wait to get a cancer stick between his lips. He had barely passed the DX doors when he lit up.

A sweet little Corvair came up beside him as he walked, distracting him from the cigarette. The one driving that hotrod was none other than Cherry Valance. Dallas wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or flip her the bird. As far as he was concerned, it was partially her fault that Johnny almost died. If her dumbass boyfriend hadn't gotten drunk then Johnny wouldn't have had to stab him in self defense. Dally settled between the two by just glaring at her.

"What do you want, Soc?"

Cherry ignored the nickname and climbed out of the car, walking up to him in her pretty Oxford shoes. "I just wanted to talk."

"We're talking right now, sweetheart," Dallas said, tagging another drag.

Again, his comment went unacknowledged. "How have you been? After getting shot and all."

Dallas raised an eyebrow. "Could it be that the little Soc girl cares about me?" he asked with a smirk. Cherry's face turned pink but she didn't respond. "Well, I've gotta say that I'm never going to a hospital again. And the scars are looking pretty tuff if I do say so myself."

"That's good. I was just wondering if you would want to go to a drive-in movie with me sometime," Cherry said evenly despite how nervous she was feeling. She had gotten over her fear of trying to love the dangerous Dallas Winston, but she still worried about getting rejected.

"Sure."

Cherry blinked in surprise at the positive answer. "Really?"

"I said sure, didn't I?" Dallas said. His cigarette was burning low and he was more concentrated on that than the infatuated girl standing in front of him. Still, she smiled brightly at him.

"I guess it's a date then. I'll see you on Friday." With that she strutted back to her car and drove off.

Dallas stamped out the little remainder of his cigarette and started burning another one, trying to figure out why it felt so wrong to agree to going on this 'date'.

* * *

**This is where things start getting complicated, so grab the popcorn and drinks. We have a good old fashioned love triangle on our hands.**

**I'm so glad everyone is enjoying this story as much as I am :3 please keep up with the reviews and I'll keep up with the frequent updates.**

**~Chickadee**


	5. Chapter 5

He was so close to being discharged it was starting to keep him up at night. Soon enough, Johnny would be able to go out with his friends again and hang out at the lot to have a smoke. Above all else though, he would be able to see Dallas again. He wouldn't have to watch the way he acted or hold back at all because there would be no nurses to tell him what to do. This was the only thing on his mind as he reentered his room after his latest check-up. Ponyboy was seated on his bed, a book in hand, while Sodapop and Steve played cards on the floor.

"You guys didn't have to wait for me, you know," Johnny said quietly as he lowered himself onto the bed next to Pony.

Sodapop offered him a grin. "It's ok Johnnycake, we wanted to. Plus, it's not like we got anything better to do."

"Yeah, we ain't like Dally. We don't have any hot date to go to," Steve chimed in, picking up a card from the deck that lay between him and Sodapop.

Johnny stiffened and clutched at the sheets. "What do you mean?"

"Dallas is going to the drive-in with a Soc girl," Steve continued.

"She's not a Soc. Her name is Cherry Valance," Ponyboy snapped. Soda shot him an apologetic glance and stole a card from Steve's hand.

Why did that name sound familiar? Johnny couldn't quite place where he knew that name from until a sudden memory played in his mind. Two Soc girls were sitting in front of that at the drive-in, but only because Dallas wanted to try his luck on them so he took the seats behind them. One was a pretty little red-head with a bit of fight to her. Her name was Sherry, and she went by Cherry. She was the one with the boyfriend who owned a blue Corvair and enjoyed wearing a lot of rings. It was her boyfriend who attacked him.

"That's cool," Johnny croaked even though his heart was seizing up on him. The fear from that night flooded his system once more, but was now accompanied by something else. He could only describe it as betrayal. This made little sense to him; Dallas was never his, so there was no reason for him to feel this way. After all, you can't miss something that wasn't yours in the first place.

He had hoped no one would notice how ill he looked, but he was sorely disappointed. "Johnny," Ponyboy said softly, "are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

What Johnny wanted to say was, 'No. I think my heart just broke a little bit. Fix it.'

* * *

If not getting a Coke spilled on him meant the date was going well, then Dallas had to say that this date was superb.

He had picked up Cherry a little ways down the street from her house since her parents would've had a heart attack seeing her with him, but that didn't bother him much. Dally had done the same for a couple of other girls he dated. After that, they proceeded on to the drive-in. The car ride was filled with conversation about things Dallas couldn't have cared less about. So when they got there, he was fairly relieved.

Explosions and gunfire were resonating from the speakers, and bursts of fire played out on the screen. Dallas was enthralled with the action he was witnessing but his date was apparently somewhere else. Cherry's attention wasn't on him or the movie; she seemed like she was deep in thought about something. If the broad wasn't going to watch the movie, then Dally figured he'd make a move on her. He didn't bother being subtle about it and just draped his arm across her shoulders so that her body was pulled closer to his. The little yelp that she let out was more than likely a good sign judging from the blush spreading across her cheeks.

"You're missing the movie, you know," Dally murmured, lips pressed against the smooth skin of her neck.

"I…I know," she sputtered. Her heart beat was quickening by the second and it made Dallas chuckle. She was nervous.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I'm just fine," Cherry said and scooted a bit closer so that her leg was brushing against his. She was looking him in the eye now, less embarrassed and more daring. It made Dallas want to wipe that challenging look of her face no matter what it took.

He kissed her none too gently, letting his teeth graze her lower lip, one hand on the back of her neck. Surprisingly enough, she leaned into it. Things went continued like this for the remainder of the movie and ended with her sitting on his lap with her back against the steering wheel. Her breathe was coming out in short pants and Dally wondered if she was actually this easy with that old boyfriend of hers or if he was _just that good._ He didn't get the chance to contemplate this further, seeing as she started talking.

"I need to get home," she breathed, her hands sliding over his shoulders and down his arms.

"Want me to drive you?" Dallas asked. He really, _really_ didn't want to after a make out session like that. It would be a bit too awkward for his tastes.

"No, I'll just walk," Cherry said and kissed him again. It reminded Dally once again that she tasted like the fruit her nickname was based on. He wasn't used to the sweetness but he figured that he would adjust to it with time.

"Alright babe, be careful," he told her with a playful tug at the hem of her shirt. Cherry blushed and nipped at his jaw line a little bit, whispering words he never thought he'd hear from a girl like her.

"I just might love you Dallas Winston."

It caught him off guard, most definitely, but he had a reputation to keep up as a lady killer. Slipping the class ring off of his finger, Dallas pressed it into Cherry's palm.

"Good to know, sweetheart."

The redhead smiled and put on the ring as she stepped out of the car, watching the way it glinted under the street lights. She muttered a thank you before departing. This left Dallas to sit alone and wonder why he didn't like how she looked with his ring on. It seemed out of place on her, and he had the urge to take it back. Cherry wasn't the one who deserved that ring and he knew it.

* * *

**Ah, that was interesting to say the least. I'm not too fond of Cherry Valance, so she's probably OC here. Whatever. Screw you, you girl that's named after a food. **

**The next few chapters are going to be better than this one, I swear to you. It's just been a while and I might be a bit rusty on writing this story. My sincerest of apologies, dear reader.**

**Gimme a lil love and review, please! It brings me great joy to hear from you guys :3**

**~Chickadee**


	6. Chapter 6

"Come on Ponyboy, I can do this on my own," Johnny said, holding his friend's hand tighter despite himself as he made the unsteady walk from the hospital to the Curtis's. No matter how much he wanted to walk perfectly on his own, each bump in the sidewalk was more like a mountain to him at this point.

Ponyboy smiled and loosened his grip on Johnny ever so slightly. "Sorry, I know. The gang's just been really worried about you walking on your own. You weren't supposed to ever walk again, Johnnycake. We just don't want to push our luck."

Johnny nudged the front gate with his hip, fingers scrambling to keep a hold on the wood without falling. "I hear ya, I hear ya," he mumbled. His blunt nails dug into the wood grain in an attempt to keep his balance when Ponyboy pushed past him hurriedly.

"Wait, hold on," he said, voice rushed as he took a hold of Johnny's wrists. Ponyboy kept looking over his shoulder at the house expectantly, chewing his lip. "Close your eyes, alright?"

"Pony, how am I supposed to-"

"I'll lead you to the door. Just close your eyes."

Fighting off the frown that most definitely would've formed had his sympathy for others been weaker, Johnny let his eyelids fall shut. He couldn't say no to Ponyboy; hell, he couldn't really say no to anyone. With the world now black as night, the crippled youth let his best friend lead him over the cracked concrete and towards the porch. He was tripping more frequently now that his sight was taken away but Ponyboy never let him fall. Johnny didn't even hit the ground when he failed to lift his foot high enough over the front step and lurched forward in what would have been a face-plant.

With this close proximity, Johnny could hear hushed voices behind the door. The loudest of them he could tell was Two-Bit. He was blabbering about staying quiet even though he could clearly be heard even outside. What Johnny assumed was a slap to the back of the head from Darry silenced him quickly though.

"Okay, now keep your eyes closed Johnnycake," Ponyboy said. Johnny had almost forgotten about the other boy in his strain to listen in on the conversation. "When I say 'now' you can open them."

Johnny nodded dumbly as he honed in on the sound of the door clicking open, the shuffle of clothing, and his own footsteps onto that downtrodden carpet. His friend put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from continuing forward and then everything was still for a moment.

Finally, Ponyboy said the magic word.

"Now."

The house was unrecognizable. A makeshift banner hung from the ceiling, tied up in either corner of the room. Big letters were clothes pinned to the strand of yarn which constituted the top of the banner, each one cut from what looked like newspaper, a thick sharpie outline clear around the edges from where one of the gang must have traced the shape. Some of them were decorated with blue glitter while others hung plain. The effect they had was all the same as they spelled out 'Welcome Home Johnny'.

A few multi-colored balloons were scattered around the floor along with the remains of the Sunday paper. Glitter covered the carpet and couch, and Johnny could see a bit of it still in Sodapop's hair.

In the center of the room though, was the entire gang all crowded together and looking as happy as could be. Johnny felt his resole weaken and tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

"J-Johnny, are you okay?" Ponyboy questioned, bending slightly so he could get a better look at his friends face.

Using the back of his hand to wipe his eyes, Johnny nodded. "I'm fine, I just…I…"

"It's pretty great, right?" Two-Bit asked as he strolled over to Johnny's side and successfully saved him from answering.

"We've been working on it all morning," Sodapop chirped, smiling brightly. "And you can thank Steve's little sister for the glitter."

Johnny had been so taken with the décor that he hadn't noticed Darrel leave the room and return with the Curtis's signature chocolate cake. Ponyboy helped him ease into a seat while his older brother divvied up the confections.

"The whole gang worked really hard on it," Pony added. Looking closer, Johnny noticed a bit of glitter stuck in his hair as well. It made him look more feminine than usual and Johnny couldn't help but laugh. In his joy, he almost didn't catch Darry's grumbling from his side.

"Most of us at least…"

Big brown eyes looked up at the larger man, questioning. "What do you mean?"

Darry took a good minute to carefully choose his words, not wanting to hurt the boy's feelings or ruin the mood. He had everything he wanted to say planned out but when he went to speak he was interrupted by Two-Bit.

"Good ol' Dally had a date with that Cherry girl last night and we haven't seen hide nor hair of him since," everyone's favorite kleptomaniac drawled with a knowing smile. Darry could have slapped the man for being so tactless.

"Oh," Johnny said, collapsing back into the plush chair in which he sat. Upon noticing that this was Dallas's usual spot, his chest felt even emptier.

"Maybe he forgot," Ponyboy tried to reason. He was chewing his lip again and was near making them bleed.

"Or maybe he got lucky," Two-Bit countered and waggled his eyebrows. Johnny just sank deeper into the recliner at those words. He couldn't decide what he was more depressed by: the thought of Dallas forgetting about him, or the possibility of Dallas having sex with the ex-girlfriend of the man who attacked him.

"I'm sure he'll turn up sooner or later," Johnny forced himself to say, a small smile painted on his face.

* * *

He was sore, tired, and still had a raging hangover. Dallas rolled out of bed and ran a hand through his snowy blonde hair. Beside him, a slim body shifted underneath the rumpled covers.

Shit.

After convincing his little red-head to loosen up and have a few drinks with him, they managed to stumble back to Buck's place and to the bedroom. He was fully prepared to take things all the way but the dame passed out on him before he could get her shirt off. If she couldn't hold her liquor then she shouldn't have taken the beer he offered to her. So Dallas got to fall asleep next to his fully-clothed date. Now, sitting on the edge of the mattress, all Dally wanted to do was get the hell out of there.

He pulled on a shirt that looked like it'd fit him, shrugged on his denim jacket before scribbling out a note for Cherry and leaving. His insides were ravaged by guilt but he couldn't bring himself to stay in that room any longer.

* * *

Dallas walked aimlessly for a good twenty minutes before deciding on heading towards the Curtis's. Surely they would have something to get rid of the pounding in his head. Darry always knew how to fix him right up.

Toeing the door open with his boot, Dallas took a quick survey of the room. His sight was still too blurry to read whatever the hell was hanging up on the wall, but there was glitter and balloons so something important must have been going on. He moved forward to sit in his favorite chair but found that it was occupied. That was _his_ seat; it was at just the right angle to see the TV and close enough for him to put his beer on the coffee table without moving too much. Nobody sat there but him.

Dally was about to bark out an order for the little shit to move when he finally noticed the occupants scared brown eyes and trembling hands.

"Johnny."

The aforementioned forced a smile even though his eyes read terror. "Hey Dally."

"When did you get back?" Dallas questioned, tousling Johnny's hair affectionately.

"I got here this morning," Johnny explained. "The guys threw me a party and everything."

Smiling, Dallas sat down on the floor next to Johnny, one hand patting the younger boy's knee. He didn't even notice how Johnny tensed under the touch and tried to shy away from it.

"You were supposed to come help out this morning," Darry said conversationally. Dallas met his eyes and found a rage that he hoped he wouldn't have to ever deal with, not that he wouldn't handle it. "You said you'd be back."

"Sorry, I lost track of time," Dally replied.

The look Darry was giving him made him think he'd be losing a few of his front teeth as soon as this whole party was over though.

* * *

**I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated, I really can't apologize enough. But honestly, you can't say I didn't pamper you guys with a new chapter almost every other day. **

**I'll do my very best to get things back on track though, okay? Stuff came up and I had to take some down time to sort it out.**

**The next chapter for this will have some major angst, so prepare yourselves.**

**Just remember that I love you guys.**

**~Chickadee**


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the party went on without incident. Sodapop and Steve started a game of Texas Hold 'Em, which was then joined by Two-Bit and Pony. With some urging from the rest of the group even little Johnny got in on the game and won a couple of rounds even though he didn't move from his armchair. Dallas mostly reclined and watched the TV while trying to ignore a seething Darrel Curtis at his side. He was giving off and air of 'you're going to have your ass handed to you don't even try to stop it'.

It was almost midnight when the gang decided to turn it in. Bodies occupied every inch of free space in the already cramped living room as they settled down for sleep. Some had cards hidden in their sleeves, stuck in their slicked back hair, or tucked into their shirts after a rousing game of 52 card pick-up gone wrong. All of them would be covered in glitter when they awoke as well, but that would just serve as a reason to tease one another. By twelve-thirty they were all asleep. All of them save for a very edgy Dallas Winston and a monumentally pissed off Darrel Curtis.

The younger of the two was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, illuminated by the dim overhead light and nothing else. His fists were jammed in his pockets in a way that most greasers used when they wanted to look dangerous enough to avoid a fight. Sadly, this tactic was doing nothing for him. Darry clocked him in the jaw hard enough for him to stumble back against the fridge.

With a hand over his newly discolored face, Dally glared up at the Curtis boy. "What the hell, _Superman_?" he hissed, using the nickname as a jab.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Dallas? Walking in here drunk off your ass and smelling like some hooker's perfume? It's Johnny's first day back and that's how you show up?! You said you'd be back in the morning, early enough to help!" This all was said in a tone somewhere between a yell and a whisper, just loud enough for Dally to hear but quiet enough that the others could sleep through it. "You can fuck up your life however you want but don't you dare hurt the kid in the process."

Dallas' eyes narrowed at the last comment. "I haven't done a damn thing to hurt him."

There was he had planned on saying but Darry wasn't going to hear it. "You almost skipped out on his party just so you could roll around in the sheets with some broad! Not to mention it's the same broad whose ex-boyfriend tried to _kill him_ and Ponyboy."

"So what?! I showed up, didn't I?! And it's none of his business who I sleep with!" Technically, he had only_ slept_ with Cherry, but he was on the defensive right now and didn't really care about the fine details.

Something changed in Darry's expression, the eruption of anger subsiding into calm and collected rage; Dally wasn't sure which scared him more.

"You don't get it do you, Dallas?" His voice was quieter now, but held even more of a bite to it. "That kid out there loves you. And I'm not talking that platonic bullshit, no, this is the real deal. He respects you, admires you, wants to be around you all the time. I may not like all that gay romance stuff but Johnny is like a part of the family, and he's been through enough without you stomping on his feelings."

This new information didn't repulse Dallas like he thought it should. His stomach twisted in a way that could only be described as pleasant until he remembered he was in the middle of an argument. An argument that he needed to win. The only way he could think of ending this was with flat out denial and pushing it away.

"Yeah? Well I don't give a damn. I'm not a fucking queer."

The words sounded harsh even to his own ears. It was a low blow and a cheap shot, but he didn't know what else to do. Dallas Winston didn't like guys, or at least he thought he didn't, until Johnny came back to life. This was all just so wrong.

In this situation, he felt like a cornered animal, thrashing and biting and just wanting to _get away._

"Go to sleep, Winston." Darry only called him by his last name when he was royally ticked off. "I want you out of my house by the time I wake up. You don't have to leave now, but if I see your sorry ass in the morning you'll have more than just a bruise on your face."

Dallas grumbled and walked out, taking up residence on the recliner and quickly falling asleep. Darry washed a dish or two before clicking off the kitchen light and retiring to his own room.

Neither of them saw the little wraith of a boy standing near the kitchen door, paralyzed in fear, and shaking like a leaf. His large brown eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

All he had wanted was a glass of water.

* * *

The air was tense when everyone got up in the morning; the bright sun seemed out of place to them.

Darry made a quick breakfast for everyone before leaving to work, reminding Soda and Steve that they needed to do the same. He allowed Ponyboy to skip school so he could help Johnny get a few things from his house. He'd be living with the Curtis' until further notice and would need more than Ponyboy's hand-me-down clothes.

Two-Bit just smoked a cigarette and munched on his eggs.

Dallas was nowhere to be found.

Ponyboy asked his oldest brother about this but only got an evasive shrug in response. He eyed Johnny and chewed at his lip some more, hoping the other boy wouldn't notice Dallas' absence. But he had, and he knew the exact reason for it.

After everything was cleaned up and the boys had carried out their morning rituals, Johnny and Ponyboy left for what the prior used to call home.

It was a small apartment that was furnished in various shades of brown, faded greens, and grey. There were some water marks on the ceiling and the wallpaper was in desperate need of changing. Ponyboy tried to ignore the rust colored stains scattered about the carpet. He didn't want to think about it too much.

"Just wait in the kitchen, I'll be right back," Johnny muttered, fiddling nervously with the sleeves of his denim jacket as he slipped away. He padded down the hall and left Ponyboy to stand alone in the declining room. They'd picked a good time to come over; Johnny's mother was already at the bar and his father was at work.

The dark haired teen ran grabbed a backpack that he used to use for school before he simply stopped going, shoving clothing and other necessities inside of it. Quickly, he ran down a mental list of things he needed and decided he had gotten everything when an unwanted thought reared its ugly head. There was a revolver on the top shelf of his father's closet with a couple rounds of ammunition. At the moment he didn't have a plan for the weapon. All he knew was that the stainless steel was calling his name.

"Johnny? You okay in there?" Ponyboy called, voice echoing slightly off of the linoleum and cabinets. The silence was starting to worry him.

"Yeah, I've just got to grab one more thing," he said. Backpack slung over one shoulder, he walked into his parents' bedroom. It looked uninhabited. Apparently his parents hated each other as much as they hated him. Johnny shrugged and dropped the bag on the floor in front of the closet. The door was open enough for him to slide through, flipping the switch so the single bulb could light up the small space. And there it was: a beige shoe box with a black lid. The edges of it were worn for reasons unknown to him. Johnny had to get on his tiptoes just to reach it. But once he did, he hid the handgun under his rumpled clothes and dumped all of the bullets in with it. Secured under a heavy sweatshirt, the shiny casings made little noise as they bumped, rattled, and clinked against each other.

Walking back out, Johnny forced a smile for his friend. "Alright, I got everything."

* * *

**Gosh. This chapter was like a sucker-punch to the feel-box. Angst, depression, then some more angst.**

**I know a lot of you are saying Cherry is out of character, and I basically did that on purpose, because I just cannot stand her. I'm sorry if that irritates some of you.**

**Anywho, I'd like to know what you think of this update, so let me know!**

**Love and hugs for everyone.**

**~Chickadee**


	8. Chapter 8

Putting down the King of Spades concluded the seventh game of solitaire that Johnny had played that day. The edges of the cards were looking more and more rumpled with every game, and eventually he gave the abused bits of paper a break. Without Ponyboy there to entertain him, he still had school to attend after all, he didn't quite know what to do with himself. He had a brief conversation with Darry about sports that morning before the older man had to usher the middle Curtis brother out the door and leave for work. But after that Johnny was left to his own devices. At first he attempted to make food for himself before he realized that he hadn't had to cook a meal in his life, usually fasting while at home and only eating when at the Curtis'. Johnny settled for a sliver of chocolate cake instead of something with real nutritional value like his body was demanding. After that came the first rousing rounds of solitaire. He'd grown fond of the game during his time staying up in the old church, but after three, he called it quits. Spying the remote not too far off, Johnny clicked on the small television. Deputy Dawg was up to his usual antics behind the glass screen. Approximately two hours were spent watching the marathon that was airing and would eventually end with a brand new episode that night. However, the young boy wasn't paying too much attention to the mutt himself. That gun strapped to his hip was much more distracting. Brown eyes locked on it without wavering until the shot moved on. _Shot_. Bullets exploding from a chamber with one job: kill. He had the means to do the same thing, all of the equipment stashed innocently in his backpack which was just a few feet away. Johnny's fingers grazed the zipper before he recoiled as if stung. What was he thinking? What would Ponyboy do if he came home to a corpse on his couch and brain matter on the walls? The poor thing would never recover from the sight. Needless to say, Johnny turned off the television soon after. More games of solitaire were to be played.

Tired and stiff, Johnny stretched his aching limbs. There was nothing left for him to do there really. Palms on the ground, he pushed himself up to stand and tried to regain his balance. Damn foot was asleep from sitting in front of the TV for so long. Johnny traipsed around the living room until the numbness wore off enough for him to walk out the door without looking like an imbecile. He stood in the threshold before moving casually towards the couch again, slinging the backpack over his shoulder as an afterthought, and left. It would be a shame if he needed that heater and didn't have it with him.

* * *

Life had become a vicious cycle since the party. Dally partied, drank, and went as far with Cherry as the broad would let him. Occasionally he could be found at the rodeo on the back of a bull that wanted his head smashed into the dirt. Sometimes the bull would even succeed in doing just that.

He could barely bring himself to stay at the Curtis' house after his little spat with Darrel. That conversation was hanging over his head like a dark cloud that was constantly raining on him. Every harsh word soaked him to the bone until the weight of it was unbearable. Usually once it got to this point he'd go and lighten his spirits with a beer or ten.

A couple of times he'd tried to hang out with Johnny but it seemed that neither of them could look at each other, why though, Dally wasn't sure. His reason was of course the fight with Darry, but why would Johnny be so anxious around him? The boy would just sit on the couch and mess with the straps of his backpack while nodding every once in a  
while to give the illusion of him listening. That eventually got on Dallas' nerves and he of course called the dark haired child out on it.

_'What's your problem, kid? You're acting like a damn zombie,' he snapped._

_Johnny looked up at him unflinchingly and shrugged. 'Sorry.'_

_Dallas growled, taking a long swig of his beer, which by now was too warm and tasted more like piss than anything. The zipper on that cruddy old backpack was clutched even tighter between two paling fingers, pulled back and forth with even more purpose now. _

The scene was played over and over in his head, seeing as that was the last time he'd Johnny as of late. He honestly couldn't find anything wrong with his behavior that day but he continued to pick it apart in hopes of finding where exactly he messed up. After that confrontation he'd been shooed away by Darry's glaring, then going to cure his bad mood with an unplanned romp in the back of Cherry's car.

From his current post by the door to the 7-11, Darry flicked his cigarette away and pounded his fist against the aged siding. Curses flew from his lips with abandon as mother's shielded their children's ears. He kindly gave them the one finger salute.

His best friend wouldn't talk to him for reasons that were beyond his grasp and it was starting to grate on his nerves. In his twisted way of thinking, there was nothing more he could do than outwardly show his distaste for everyone and everything.

Dallas reached blindly for another cigarette so he could continue chain smoking in front of the convenient store only to find that his newest pack was empty. _Fucking Two-Bit must've taken 'em_, he thought bitterly. Groping around his pockets led him to find that was not only without a smoke, but also without any cash to buy more. More loud curses were sent flying for the public to ignore. Instead of taking his aggression out on the nearest citizen he opted for walking towards the Curtis'. They were all at work (or school, in Pony's case) so the house would deserted.

How could it be, that he'd forget little ol' Johnny was a new resident there?

* * *

His heart thrummed wildly against his ribcage, threatening to snap the bones and break free. It was a silly notion, but Johnny kept his backpack clutched to his chest to keep the organ inside.

It seems that not every Soc knew that there had been a truce since the Greasers had won the rumble.

They pelted him with whatever they could find under the seats of that lovely red Firebird. A few bottles hit their mark and left bruises on his upper arms.

He ran as fast as he could towards the abandoned lot, fight or flight instincts driving him. The car followed until its occupants had nothing left to throw. Not that he noticed; he had already tucked himself safely behind a tree before they made the U-turn away from him.

Johnny tried to ignore the obscenities still buzzing in his ears. It was almost funny how one of them sounded like his dad. They both shouted the same sick insults in that awful, slurred voice. The scars littering his body itched from the memories of being thrown down by father dearest. He couldn't help but pick at them with the nails he'd bitten down to the point of bleeding. It was a disgusting nervous habit and his mother made a point to remind him of it every time she saw him doing it.

She hated him. Dad hated him. Half of Tulsa probably hated him, too.

And most importantly, Dallas hated him. He was a faggot, after all.

That simple thought sent tidal waves of pain and self-loathing ripping through his body.

That simple thought also made his mind up for him.

Shaky fingers tugged the tiny and warped zipper of his backpack down until its contents were exposed. A shining cobalt form laid half covered by a thick blue sweatshirt that made him look like he was drowning whenever he wore it. Johnny wrapped his thin fingers around the cool metal and pulled it out.

The gun felt awkward and too heavy in his palm. He couldn't seem to get a feel for holding it properly. Instead he set it on the ground and rummaged through his bag some more. Most of the bullets had fallen to the bottom, making him sift through clothing for a good five minutes until he could even fill three of the chambers. Tremors in his hands made putting the gold casings in the gun quite difficult. They frequently fell from his fingers when he tried to push them in, the tips knocking against the edges of their chamber before falling to the dirt in front of him.

It took more time than it should have, but he had a loaded gun now, and that was all that mattered.

Johnny didn't know where exactly to place the gun, though. Pointing it at his chest it twisted his wrist at an awkward angle and he couldn't hold the position long enough to squeeze the trigger. Shooting himself in the stomach seemed pretty dumb, even to him, and he knew that it would take longer for him to die that way. In the end he opted for placing it at his temple. Classic.

The metal seared his skin in the most unpleasant of ways. But he had experienced far worse than this before in his short life. Johnny Cade died, and he wasn't scared of it anymore.

He breathed deep, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.

* * *

***strokes nonexistant beard* **

**Hm. Well that escalated quickly.**

**First and foremost, I seriously have to apologize for not updating in like, FOREVER. Silly me.**

**Secondly, I'd LIKE to say that the updates shall be more frequent now that it seems I have my mojo back. However, I make no promises.**

**Thirdly, I know the plot was just like BLOW! in your face just now. It was necessary. Trust me.**

**Much love,**

**~Chickadee**


	9. Chapter 9

Everything was in black and white, like in those old movies that he used to watch when he was younger. The sky was a lovely shade of grey and the clouds were dull white smears on its being. He couldn't see it properly, but the sun looked like a hole in the sky; a perfect white disk with razor sharp edges. Only half of it was visible though due to the inky black figure above him. It was beyond blurry with no recognizable features. Despite this it was speaking to him, so it must have at least had a mouth. He let his eyes softly shut but realized it was a bad idea because the figure began talking more rapidly. It made the pounding in his head even worse to try and distinguish what it was saying. Why did his head hurt so badly? On top of that, it felt like his spine had been soaked in gasoline and set ablaze. The pain was becoming unbearable. He just wanted it to stop.

* * *

This couldn't be happening to him. Dallas had hoped and prayed that he'd never witness the day that Johnny Cade found a gun. But pinned by the shoulders underneath him was the boy in question, and in his tiny fist was a sleek looking revolver. He felt physically ill at the sight of it.

"Johnny? Johnny! Fucking answer me!" he yelled anxiously. The bullet hadn't hit him, had it? No; he'd practically tackled Johnny the second he put pressure on the trigger, leaving the bullet to spin and ricochet off of the nearby fence. With that being the case, Johnny should've been _answering him_. Big brown eyes were squeezed shut and the only way Dallas could tell that his friend was still alive was from the weak groans he emitted. His blunt finger nails dug further into Johnny's bony shoulders. "Goddamnit Johnny!"

"Hurts…"

Dallas froze. "What?"

"Back…hurts…get…off…"

A grin spread of Dally's face at that. He was on his feet in a hot second, clutching the younger boy like that was all that mattered. "Praise the lord, Johnnycakes, I thought you were dead! Not sure what I'd do if I lost you again-"

"Lemme go, Dal." Johnny murmured in a quiet but firm voice, thin hands pushing against his chest. Those hands may as well have broken his bones because it was like his ribs were collapsing.

"What?"

The darker haired boy wriggled out of that vice like grip. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve before staring up at what he may have once called his idol. Johnny's bottom lip was trembling as he stood a good distance away.

"I told ya to let go. I don't want you huggin' on me like that anymore."

Dallas furrowed his brow in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about? You always-"

"Yeah, well not anymore, okay Dal?" Johnny snapped, taking the other hood by surprise. It wasn't how loud he said it that shocked him but more the way those words were delivered. There was venom there and more pain than Dallas would like to take note of. "I'm done."

"But-"

"Why does it matter? I'm a queer, ain't I?"

If Johnny would just stop interrupting him maybe he'd get a chance to say why it did in fact matter. Dallas made to argue with the kid on that point until he processed everything he said.

All the color drained from his face, and his fingers felt colder than they had a few seconds ago. Neither of them spoke for a good while.

"You heard that?" Dallas asked, snapping the tension like a rubber band, only knowing that this whiplash would hurt far worse.

"Yeah, I heard it."

Johnny wasn't looking at him anymore. He stooped to the ground to pick up his backpack, dragging the zipper back into place with one hand. The movement made his spine crackle and burn, but he wasn't about to stop for anything, let alone a little pain. Next to his feet the gun lay forgotten.

"Johnny, come on, you know I didn't mean it."

Dallas didn't get a response. Johnny just kept gathering his belongings until they were all packed tightly into his bag again.

"I don't get what you're so upset about."

That was most definitely the wrong choice of words, Dally found, because not a second after he spoke them did Johnny take off. He screamed his name once, twice, but didn't move from where he stood. No, Dallas Winston didn't even try to follow him.

* * *

The screen door slammed with a crack and clang as the young boy barreled into the house. He let himself fall flat onto the couch with his face smothered by an overly plush pillow. Odd little noises of sorrow resounded in his throat but he'd be damned if he started crying again.

From around the corner a poked out, eyes wide and curious.

"Johnnycakes? You okay, buddy?" Soda ventured quietly. He knew the boy was skittish and didn't want to risk him bolting.

" 'M fine," was the muffled reply.

With a slice of cake in hand, Sodapop sat down on the armrest nearest Johnny's head.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"What happened?"

For a few seconds, neither spoke. Soda was starting to get the feeling that this was a lost cause, that he should leave this to Ponyboy, but then he heard the little wraith talk.

"I hate Dallas."

That just about sent the older of the two toppling off the side of the couch. In all of his years he had never heard Johnny say anything negative about their friend, and to hear him declare hatred for him was more than startling. The boy followed Dallas like a lost puppy. Soda decided it'd be best to soothe him instead of coaxing the story out of him.

"You don't hate him, Johnny, you're just a little mad at him right now."

"N-No I h-hate him!" Johnny sat up, holding that backpack like it was his anchor to reality. He was on the brink of tears too by the way his was sniffling.

Sodapop slid down so he could sit and wrap an arm around the littler teen's shoulders.

"Really?"

Again, things got quiet between them.

"No…he just…I…"

Sodapop laughed quietly, though there wasn't much joy to it. "Yeah, I know. Did you think you were the only one awake when he decided to make a total ass out of himself? I heard, Pony heard, and so did Steve. Two-Bit was fast asleep. Just…didn't really know what to say, you dig?"

Johnny let his head hang so his bangs blocked his eyes just like they would before his whole incident with Bob.

"I dig."

"Good," Soda said with a small smile, tousling those dark locks as if Johnny was still a kid.  
"You alright now?"

"I guess so…hey Soda?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you take me to the doctor?"

"Sure thing Johnnycake, sure thing."

* * *

**Wow! Late update on my part, but I've got a valid reason this time!**

**I have recently sustained second degree burns on the entirety of the back of my left hand, and have been out of commission for a while. I'm just now able to move it again without any major pain, but it still it quite difficult to move, thus the short length of this chapter. It seems I'm unable to hit some of the keys correctly. Derp derp.**

**Anyways, I hope y'all didn't give up on me! I'm here!**

**Love and snuggles for everyone.**

**~Chickadee**


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